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| Baseball fans in fancy suits, their wallets ripe for picking! |
My Plan to Save Baseball
By Ted Allen
Now that Major League Baseball owners and players have settled
their differences and averted a strike, they can get back to the
real national pastime—separating fans from their money. According
to the Sports Fans of America Association, it now costs an average
of $145.21 to take a family of four to a game after you shell
out for parking, food, drinks, and souvenirs. But many fans can
afford to spend far more—baseball's still a bargain compared
to the NFL and NBA.
Here's a few money-raising ideas for teams to consider:
Give Them a "Front Row" View.
Sitting in the upper level in most ballparks feels like you're
watching from a zeppelin. Teams should equip every nosebleed seat
with a set of credit card-activated binoculars. Naturally, the
per-minute charge would double after the sixth inning if the game
is close.
Adopt Free-Market Pricing.
For many fans, their desire for beer grows as the game progresses.
Why not boost prices by 50 cents an inning? If fans are willing
to pay $5 for a 12-ounce draft when the game begins, they'll readily
pay $9 to imbibe until the final out. The league could even pitch
this as a measure to curb drunk driving.
Install "Executive" Washrooms.
Most modern ballparks have an ample supply of bath rooms. So why
not set aside a few for well-heeled fans who won't want to miss
a double play while in line at the john? Each executive washroom
would include a tuxedoed attendant, who'd offer linen towels,
cologne, and antacids. Of course, the $10 admission fee would
double in the late innings.
Open the Broadcast Booth.
Many fans would sign over their paychecks for a chance to call
an inning with Vin Scully or Jon Miller or to sit in the same
booth once used by broadcast legends Jack Buck or Red Barber.
Besides, the fans can't be much worse than many of today's announcers.
Embrace Pete Rose.
The league won't admit it, but gambling is about as American as
apple pie. Imagine the revenue from installing video-poker screens
in the back of every seat. Slot machines, which helped revive
horse racing in Delaware and West Virginia, would lure patrons
on those 200-plus days a year when no home games are scheduled.
Some teams could even enlist local Native American groups to open
tribal casinos beyond the outfield wall. Just imagine the marketing
synergies in Cleveland and Atlanta—and trying your luck at
the "Green Monster" craps table.
Welcome to "Double Helix" Night.
As the Ted Williams controversy shows, there's big money to be
made from genetic material. Collectors pay millions for home-run
balls, so why not players' bodily fluids? Compared to autographs,
DNA is more personal and can't be faked. Who wouldn't treasure
a vial of sweat from Diamondbacks reliever Byung-Hyun Kim during
his blown World Series saves, saliva from legendary spitballer
Gaylord Perry, or a Viagra-charged sample from Rafael Palmeiro?
And there'll be a plentiful supply when the league finally imposes
drug testing.
Follow NASCAR's Lead.
Ballparks today are cluttered with advertising, so why should
players' uniforms and caps remain sacrosanct? Company names already
adorn NASCAR drivers, pro soccer players and recreational softball
leagues. Even team names should be for sale. Most fans would rather
watch the Minnesota Twinkies, the Florida Mickeys, or the Tampa
Bay Frito-Lays than no team at all.
Give That Fan a Contract.
Many baseball teams offer fantasy camp programs where fans pay
top dollar to suit up and practice with players and coaches during
spring training. Why not allow a few fans to play to pay in regular
games? What pot-bellied boomer wouldn't shell out thousands for
a chance to lay down a bunt or play third for his boyhood heroes?
Those too slow could bid to be fantasy first-base coaches or managers.
Who could put a price on the thrill of cheering from the dugout
as your favorite player crosses home plate to beat the Yankees
and win the pennant?
Of course, the post-game champagne bath would cost extra.
- Ted Allen
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